Harry Potter and the Union of the Founders
by Starsearcher
Summary: Harry Potter’s Sixth year, complete with celebrations, chaos, and unexpected friendships. HarryGinnyDraco, RonHermione, and much much more. Please R&R! CHAPTER FIVE UP!
1. A Plain Morning

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**Harry Potter  
****and  
the Union of the Founders**

_by_

_Starsearcher_

Rating: PG-13 Summary: Harry Potter's Sixth year, complete with celebrations, chaos, and unexpected friendships. Harry/Ginny/Draco, Ron/Hermione. Disclaimer: This is only my little dance into the world of Harry Potter fanfiction. All characters/themes/places belong to the mastermind herself, JK Rowling.

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**Chapter One:  
****A Plain Morning**

Harry Potter was not sure exactly what made this very morning different from the other mornings he'd woken up to at Hogwarts. Granted, it was a Saturday, meaning no classes, but it still did not feel like an ordinary day. It was the middle of his sixth year, and though he knew that a growing danger loomed in the very near future, for some reason, this morning felt different from the others had been.

He sat up in his four-poster bed, scratching his head for a moment as he stared blankly around him. The room was still fuzzy, mostly because his glasses were still on his nightstand. He quickly reached for them, adjusting them as they automatically slid down his nose. It was funny, but today, not even his old familiar glasses felt the same.

He realized he had woken up rather early. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, and the first rays of light were leaking into the room through the heavy curtains. He frowned slightly. Usually, he tried to sleep in as much as possible, but he could tell by the soft snores around him, and the occasional customary muttering about spiders and tap shoes from Ron, that he had beaten everyone today, even Dean, who was the earliest riser among the Gryffindor boys.

As he crept out of bed, careful to make as little noise as possible, he wondered again why he felt so awake, and so remarkably refreshed, and then quite suddenly, it hit him.

_Of course._

He hadn't had a single nightmare last night.

A small grin slipped onto his face as he realized this. For the first time in almost a year, he hadn't been haunted by visions of that archway in the Ministry, or of the shadows calling him forward, or of Sirius—

The smile vanished from his face quite suddenly. Even after almost a year, thinking about Sirius like this still hurt. He forced his mind to switch gears quickly, and as he heard his stomach give a low rumble, he decided to venture for some breakfast. Slipping into his robes, he headed down the winding stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, his shoes making soft padding noises on the cool stone.

He was almost about to head out through the portrait hole when he realized that the Common Room was not empty. Curious as to who else would be up at such an early hour, and half betting himself that it would be one of his best friends Hermione Granger studying for some test, he peered over the top of one of the large, cushy armchairs by the fireplace. A funny lump formed in his throat when he realized who it was.

Ginny Weasley was sound asleep in the corner of the large chair, her small frame almost lost amidst the cushions. On the floor in front of her lay several heavy textbooks, but Harry saw that her fingers were curled around another book, a much thinner one of bound leather. He didn't have to see her name engraved on the front cover to realize that was her diary.

It was strange, but Harry had never been able to picture Ginny as ever wanting to have anything to do with a diary again, not after their ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets during his second year at Hogwarts. But he should have known that Ginny would not let something like Lucius Malfoy's sadistic plan get in the way of her life. Weasley stubbornness, he thought with a small grin. He had rarely heard her speak of her ordeal with that cursed diary, but the very fact that she was capable of writing in one again made Harry swell a bit with pride. That was his Ginny.

_Wait a minute_¸ a small voice in his head chimed in. Since when had she been "his" Ginny? Despite the fact that he knew he was alone, Harry felt his cheeks warm up slightly. She looked very peaceful in the armchair, with a rather worn looking quill tucked behind her right ear, her bright signature Weasley hair spilling onto her shoulders.

Harry backed away slowly from the chair, hoping he would not wake her. She looked as though she needed to sleep for a bit longer. As quietly as he could, he exited the Common Room, heading towards the Great Hall. The castle corridors were eerily quiet so early in the morning, but he found that to his liking at the moment. He rather thought he needed the silence to think.

As predicted, the Great Hall was almost completely empty, save for a few yawning students munching on some toast, and the Grey Lady at study in the corner. The one lone occupant at the Gryffindor table was deeply absorbed in a massive volume, so much that she did not notice Harry making his way over to her.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry said loudly, and grinned as she gave a small squeak of surprise at his sudden greeting. She quickly regained her composure, however, and was now shooting Harry an amused look.

"Morning, Harry," she replied quite cheerfully, putting her book to the side. "You scared me for a minute there! What are you doing up so early?"

"I'm not really sure," Harry replied truthfully, taking a piece of toast from the platter that had appeared in the middle of the table. He was in mid-chew when he realized that Hermione was looking at him with concern on her face.

"Trouble sleeping?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low murmur as she said this. She glanced around nervously, as though making sure that the few other people in the hall could not hear them. "Are you…are you still have those nightmares?"

Harry shook his head quickly, and he saw her breathe a sigh of relief. She and his other best friend Ron Weasley were the only ones who knew about his frequent nightmares for the past year or so. Well, not actually the only ones, he corrected himself, thinking of the night at the Burrow that past summer. The night when…he shook his head again, pushing back those confusing thoughts. They were the only ones he'd actually told, however, which explained why she was looking rather worried at the moment. He smiled at her though, and to his own surprise, the smile was actually genuine. He took another bite of his toast, and then reached to scoop some eggs onto his plate.

"Really, I'm fine. I woke up this morning feeling different. I don't think I even dreamed last night, much less had a nightmare."

"Well," Hermione replied, a small smile on her face. "That's great news, Harry."

"So what are you up to?" Harry grinned, thinking about his earlier mental bet with himself. "Studying for another exam? I remember you passing your last Arithmancy one with a hundred and fourteen percent. I don't think you'll have much to worry about, Hermione."

She blushed slightly, but grinned good-naturedly in response. "No, actually, I'm reading up on a bit of research for that paper Snape assigned us. I didn't do so well on the last exam, so I thought I'd put in more effort on this paper."

Harry rolled his eyes. It was a gesture he had learned very well from Ron.

"Hermione," he said with disbelief. "You got a ninety-one. That's not exactly what I'd call 'not doing so well'."

She merely shrugged in response, and sighed softly. Harry almost knew what she was going to say next.

"I just don't want to see the look on _his_ face if I mess up," she said quietly, and Harry felt himself feeling sorry for even questioning her.

He and Ron both knew how much her schoolwork meant to Hermione, and also, how much Severus Snape favored practically anyone else except for her (with the exception of Neville Longbottom, who had thankfully chosen against taking N.E.W.T. level potions this year, and of course, Harry himself). Snape had never shown any sort of liking to Hermione, and despite the fact that they were all on the same side of this war, his disdain for the girl whom he called an "insufferable know-it-all" was as strong as ever. Almost as much as his ire towards the Boy Who Lived.

But Harry knew Hermione was talking about a different person at the moment. The one person Snape had favored for the past six years, the one person who somehow managed to be annoyingly good at Potions, who took great delight in besting Hermione in her studies: Draco Malfoy.

Harry felt his fists clench despite the prior pleasant feeling of the morning. The thought of Draco Malfoy was enough to make him want to hit something at the moment. He would never forget that it had been Lucius Malfoy who had lead that attack at the Ministry a year ago, that it had been Lucius Malfoy who had tricked him into Voldemort's hands, ultimately leading to Sirius' death.

The painful thought again hit him hard, and he clenched his fists some more, trying to squeeze the angry feelings out of his mind. He was not about to ruin his perfectly fine, nightmare-free morning just because Malfoy was on his mind. Hermione seemed to sense what was going on in his head, and she deftly changed the subject, giving him a bright grin.

"All right there, Harry?" she asked, nibbling on a half eat muffin from her plate. "You thinking of going to the pitch today again?"

Harry nodded, though he hadn't realized it was even on his mind.

"Yeah, I reckon I'll practice a bit with Ron. If he ever wakes up that is," he added with a knowing grin. Hermione giggled slightly as well at the joke. Both of them knew that Ron Weasley had a tendency to oversleep on a regular day, and considering it was a holiday, he was likely to wake up around mid-afternoon. During his stay at the Burrow in the last weeks of the past summer, Harry had been privy to several Weasley-style wake-up calls courtesy of the twins Fred and George, which usually included some sort of swearing on Ron's part and a good deal of laughter from everyone else.

Harry felt himself smile at the memory of it. It was strange to think there was still much let to smile about. Realizing that his thoughts were again leading him down a morbid road, he shook the past summer out of his mind, and glanced over at Hermione's neatly written notes. He noticed that her quill didn't look nearly as worn as Ginny's had been.

"Hey Hermione," he started, not really sure where to begin. "When's our next Hogsmeade trip?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, as though retrieving information from some far corner of her mind, and then she nodded.

"Actually, it's next weekend, if I remember correctly. Right before the winter holidays."

"Ah," Harry replied, thinking.

"Why do you ask, Harry?" Hermione said curiously, and Harry felt his face turn slightly hot.

"Erm, no reason," he replied quickly. "Just wanted to do a bit of shopping, that's all."

"Shopping for anyone in particular?" she said innocently, looking at her books still.

Harry caught the mischievous tone in Hermione's voice as she continued to write nonchalantly. He suddenly felt as though he wanted to get out of the Great Hall as quickly as possible. It was never good to underestimate the full extent of Hermione's mischievousness. Though she was a seasoned prefect (he remembered her actual surprise when she had gotten that letter again this summer, and Ron's eyes rolling nonstop for the rest of the time), she could no longer fool him with her feigned innocence and proper behavior. She was his best friend and a terribly clever witch, and as he often found out, those two did not make for a very good combination, especially when used against him. Quickly gulping down some juice, he muttered a quick excuse about needing to do some homework of his own before leaving the Great Hall. He could practically hear Hermione laughing in amusement behind him.

As he rounded the corner of the stairs, he ran headfirst into another student, knocking the both of them onto the ground. He was about to utter an embarrassed apology when he realized whom it was he had hit, and the cold, tense feeling in his mind returned quickly. A pair of angry grey-blue eyes were glaring at him, and as Harry got to his feet, his own green eyes were also fierce.

"Better watch where you're going, Potter," Draco Malfoy spat out, the familiar sneer on his face. "In a hurry, are we? Of to save the world again? Or are we still moping over that lunatic godfather of yours? Croaked, didn't he?"

Harry clenched his fists tightly. He wanted to hit Malfoy so badly at that moment, wanted to force him take back those words. But he remembered clearly Hermione's words at the start of term, when she had warned both him and Ron that they would have to do their best to avoid Draco Malfoy this year. With Voldemort back, and the obvious knowledge that Lucius Malfoy was one of the head Death Eaters, it would do no good to provoke his son. So Harry bit his lip from replying, even though his entire body was shaking with fury.

Malfoy seemed to have taken note of Harry's unusually silent approach to his taunts, and the sneer grew wider.

"What, speechless now, Potter?" He drawled, almost laughing. "Guess you Gryffindor lot aren't as brave as you're made out to be. Of course, I knew that all along. Cowards the lot of you. I reckon that Sirius Black was also quite a Gryffindor, wasn't he?" He snickered at the flash of anger that danced across Harry's face at the mention of Sirius' name and continued. "Some godfather, Potter. Did you really _cry_ when he died? Poor silly Black. He was probably as much of a coward as you are."

Harry could take it no more. His anger with Malfoy had reached a point where he was no longer thinking clearly. He uttered a low growl and was about to launch himself at Malfoy, forgetting his wand and only knowing that he wanted to get his hands around Draco's neck, when a cool voice drew them both back into reality.

"You don't deserve to speak his name, Malfoy."

Both boys turned their heads quickly to the source of the voice. Harry felt the same funny lump form in his throat again.

Ginny stood at the top of the stairs, a furious look in her eyes. She was probably just as angry as Harry felt at the moment, but she was holding it in remarkably well. She did however look as though she was about to hex Malfoy then and there, but instead, she simply stared at Harry for a moment before addressing Malfoy again.

"Just because you and your family would rather side with the enemy than work up the nerve to stand against him doesn't mean everyone else is as spineless. You want to talk about cowardice, Malfoy?" And here her words were almost spat at him, her face screwed up in a sneer very similar to his. "Then I suggest you go look in a mirror. You might want to fix that hair and ugly sneer of yours while you're at it, too."

Both Malfoy and Harry were looking at Ginny with a mix of shock and amazement on their faces. Malfoy recovered first however, and he scowled angrily, a twisted smirk on his face as he looked between Harry and Ginny.

"Still got a crush on Potter then, Weasley?" he mocked, and turned as though to leave. "You're pathetic, Weasley. Do you still gush about him to your _diary_?" Here, Harry saw Ginny pale ever so slightly. Malfoy noticed as well, it seemed, for he almost howled with laughter. "You do, don't you! Hah! That's just priceless, Weasley. You'd think that you would have learned your lesson by now. Don't worry though, you will soon enough." He glanced at Harry again as he said those words. "You'll all get a lesson you won't forget," he whispered darkly, and with that, he stormed quickly down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and looked up at Ginny, who was staring after Malfoy with an unreadable expression on her face. She quickly snapped out of it, however, and managed to grin at Harry, who smiled back.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Morning, Ginny."

"Where are you off to so early?"

Harry shrugged.

"To the grounds, I think. I'll probably take a walk before heading to the pitch."

Ginny smiled at him and quickly descended the stairs.

"Mind if I join you? I was thinking of a little practice too."

Harry noticed then that Ginny was completely dressed and already holding a broomstick in her hands. He grinned. After Professor Umbridge had been permanently banned from ever returning to Hogwarts again, he had reassumed his position as the Gryffindor seeker. However, Ginny, who had been rather fond of the game, managed to make it back onto the team as a chaser.

Harry nodded in response to her questioning look, and together they headed to the broomcloset. They chatted easily about Quidditch, and laughed as well about Ron's oversleeping habit. Harry marveled at how nice it felt to be talking normally to Ginny. He mentally said thanks again for the fact that Ginny was now able to speak to him without blushing or turning tongue-tied, even though a small part of him admitted the attention had been rather flattering, if embarrassing. But he quickly chased the thought out of his mind as he studied her now.

For the past term, she'd become a closer member of his circle of friends, and he knew that she and Hermione had become especially close. Ron had always been a bit hesitant to allow his younger sister in on their secrets, especially considering that most of them were rather dangerous, but he had started seeing his sister in a new light after the end of term last year. No one could deny that Ginny knew how to use her hexes, and after she had put a particularly nasty one on Ron after they'd had a furious row earlier in the year, he had learned to stay on her good side and include her in their discussions.

They were outside in a matter of minutes, and Harry breathed in deeply as he walked by her side, enjoying the feeling of the wind as it swept over his body. It was a perfect day for Quidditch. The sun was shining, but its glare was partially covered by clouds, and the wind had a warm, tickling effect. There was some leftover snow on the ground from the previous week, but the weather was still rather warm for this time of the year. He glanced at Ginny, who seemed to be deep in thought. Deciding against breaking the silence, he continued walking. However, she ended up speaking a few minutes later.

"Malfoy is still an awful prat, isn't he?" she stated quite frankly. Harry felt his stomach tense slightly at the mention of the name, but Ginny was not done yet.

"I mean, honestly, you'd think he'd have a _little_ bit of respect for the deceased. You'd think his parents would have taught him some manners at least."

Harry snorted. "Fat chance at that, Gin," he said, shrugging. "The Malfoys' idea of manners would probably to thank someone for being so cooperative after they've tortured him for a bit."

"Yeah, I know," she replied. "But I still can't help but think that they should know better. They are his parents, after all."

Harry did not know quite what to say in response to that, and so he merely shrugged again, letting his thoughts linger on in silence. Ginny seemed to have wanted to end the discussion as well, and they were both quiet on the path until they reached the pitch.

Ginny then let out a tiny little sigh as she grabbed her broomstick, and a moment later, she had shot into the air, a fresh smile on her face. Harry grinned and followed, letting out an uncharacteristically loud whoop of joy as he felt the familiar rush of flying again. It was amazing how energized he felt as he soared through the air, doing a series of loops through the golden hoops. Everything else seemed to be pushed aside, and the only thing that mattered was the air whooshing past him, the sound of his Firebolt as it raced through the sky. Later, Ginny brought out a practice snitch, and they spent the rest of the morning chasing after the small golden ball. By the time they had to head in for lunch, Harry had completely forgotten about the angry incident with Malfoy, a genuine smile on his face as he walked back to the castle.

* * *

Hogsmeade weekend was the one thing that got Harry through the next week. Between classes, homework, Quidditch practice, and detentions with Snape, he felt like he did not have a moment at all for rest. The only good news was that by the time he could crash into bed and sleep, he was so tired that he did not dream at all.

When finally the weekend rolled around once more, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Although he still had a mountain of homework to get through (and Hermione on his back about doing it promptly), he decided to ignore the growing stress he felt about schoolwork and focus on Hogsmeade and all of its delights.

Ron had left to do some shopping of his own, much to their surprise, and he had seemed rather awkward and secretive about it all. Hermione, who had of course finished all of her holiday shopping already, was accompanying Harry on his quest for things, giving her advice about practically everything he seemed to take even a little bit of interest in. However, knowing full well that he couldn't really buy what he _really_ wanted to if she were there, he managed to convince her to leave him alone for a bit, playing on the whole issue of secrecy. He hadn't expected her to run off with Ginny and a few other giggling girls, but he was at least grateful to be alone.

Harry paused before opening the door to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. The place was relatively crowded, the smell of ink and parchment causing his head to spin a bit. He browsed through the rows and rows of quills, steering clear of some of the more ostentatious ones and finally wandering to the back of the store.

He decided on a neat, pretty gift set that consisted of five quills, white with gold detailing, and two simple but elegantly shaped inkbottles. The little set also had a dozen small envelopes, also white with gold accents, and two pads of stationary. It was perfect, Harry thought to himself. It even reminded him of her.

Trying not to think about why he was even doing this, he then grabbed another set of quills, this time of a bronze, golden hue with shiny black lines. _For Hermione_, he told himself, and then before he could change his mind, he quickly went up to the counter and paid for his purchases.

Some time later, after spending a few more galleons at Zonko's and Honeydukes, he met up with Ron and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks, where Ginny and her friends were also sitting and chatting.

"So what'd you get?" Ron asked curiously, peering at his bags. Harry shrugged, putting the bags down next to him.

"It's supposed to be a surprise, remember?" he said reasonably, and to his surprise, Ron left it at that. Something else had apparently drawn his attention, and his features darkened. Harry didn't have to ask to realize what it was.

"Malfoy," Ron muttered under his breath, and Harry turned to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin just entering, his cronies at his side and a few other Slytherins in tow.

"Ron," Hermione said quietly, keeping her eyes away from them. "Don't you dare start anything."

"Me!" Ron cried out, indignant. "Hermione! If anyone's going to start something, it'd be him!"

"Ron," Hermione said with a warning tone in her voice. "Can't we just enjoy today and not worry about Malfoy? Just pretend he's not there."

Harry was about to agree with her when Malfoy said something that caused the whole lot of Slytherins to burst out in laughter. He had an uneasy feeling about the subject of their laughter, a feeling that escalated when he caught Malfoy's eye for a brief moment and saw the malice reflected there.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered to Ron and Hermione, who looked rather concerned. Nodding their agreement, the two of them stood up at once, almost knocking each other over in their hurry. Ron had to reach out to grab hold of Hermione so that she wouldn't fall, and as she muttered an apology quickly, Harry caught a glimpse of Ron's face, which seemed a bit flushed. In fact, Harry thought with a slight grin, his ears were beginning to look particularly red, a telltale sign of embarrassment.

Tucking that little piece of information to the back of his mind, Harry grabbed his bags and followed his friends out the door, waving at Ginny as he headed out. Thankfully, once they were clear of Malfoy and his gang, he felt lighthearted once more, and for the rest of the afternoon, he and Ron jabbered over Quidditch tactics while Hermione laughed at their antics.

* * *

Ginny Weasley gave a little sigh as she watched Harry, Hermione, and Ron rush out of The Three Broomsticks. Sodding Malfoy, she thought with a spark of annoyance. She knew they had only left because Harry could not stand to be near Malfoy these days, not after last year. Because of Malfoy, they had left.

She sighed again, and then settled back to listening to her friends gushing over the seventh year Gryffindor boys, most particularly Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Ginny rolled her eyes; she knew they all _really_ wanted to talk about Harry and Ron, but because she was there, they were avoiding those two boys like mad. _Probably a good thing, though,_ she told herself. She did not know how she might react if one of her friends started talking about how "hot" her brother's body was…

Ginny made a face. That was gross.

And of course, Ron was oblivious to all of this. _Typical_, Ginny thought, sipping her butterbeer. Ron was always clueless when it came to girls. That had to be the only reason he and Hermione had yet to have at it, because she couldn't see what was really holding him back. Just a few moments ago, when he had her in his arms, he looked like Christmas had come early. However, knowing Ron, he would try to deny it as much as possible, while at the same time driving them all mad with his moaning and groaning over his "problems".

"Idiot," she muttered under her breath, feeling frustrated for Hermione's sake at her brother's lack of courage. Well, at least courage in this case; God knows he'd rush into anything else blindly and then proceed to make some sort of scene. Idiot, indeed. What _did _all these girls even see in him?

Though, Ginny amended, almost grimacing, if she could put her sisterly feelings aside for a moment, she _might_ be able to see something redeeming in her brother. He did have the best smile of anyone she knew, and when he laughed, he laughed with everything he had. A year and a half of formal Quidditch training had also made him leaner, though just the thought of noting his physique made Ginny almost want to hurl again.

The girls were still chatting about Dean, and wondering who he might be seeing now. Ginny shrugged. Her brief fling with Dean had been fun, but in the end they had both felt rather awkward about it; they were friends, and it was strange to think of themselves as anything else. Besides, Ginny mentally added, after that time when Ron nearly throttled him for going out with her, things had gotten even more awkward.

At that thought, Ginny scowled. She hated it when she was babied by her brother. She understood that he was looking out for her, and that now that Fred and George had left school, he was her only family member at Hogwarts.

_But that doesn't mean he gets to be such a prat about it!_ She thought angrily, remembering how he had oh so subtlety hinted at the end of last term (and over the summer) that she should find someone "better" next time, all the while casting furtive looks over at Harry while he was talking.

Harry…

Ginny shook the thoughts of the dark haired boy from her mind. Harry was her past; she'd given up on him since the beginning of 5th year, when she had decided once and for all to stop her moping. It had worked too; she hadn't realized what she'd been missing by pining after him. So what if he was her first real crush? He obviously did not feel the same way back, and as pathetic as it was to admit it, after five years, Ginny had had enough.

But she knew her friends were still hesitant to bring up Harry's name in her presence, especially in these discussions. Furthermore, she knew that Harry was the one person that these girls liked to talk about most; well, except for Malfoy, that is.

Even at the thought of Draco Malfoy, Ginny's expression darkened. She did not know why, but she had always held out some slight hope for him. Maybe it was still a part of her naivety, but she had always wanted to believe that he would not turn out like his father.

Or rather, that he would not turn out like another Slytherin prefect she had known, so long ago…

Ginny clenched her teeth. He was gone, she told herself. At least, in that form…he couldn't touch her here anymore. Hadn't that been the reason she'd forced herself to start writing in a diary again? To chase away any lingering fears of Tom Riddle from her mind?

"Gin? Ready to go?"

Ginny looked up from the table, realizing her friends were all staring at her with curious expressions on their faces. Noting that they were all standing and ready to leave, she hastily gulped down the last of her butterbeer and threw on her heavy robe and scarf.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Well," her friend Jessa said with a grin. "We're going to go check out the Shrieking Shack…you up for it?"

Ginny frowned. The Shrieking Shack was the most haunted building in Hogsmeade; everyone knew that. However, she also knew from the stories Hermione told her that it had only gotten that reputation because of poor Professor Lupin, and that now it should be quite safe and deserted. However, an uneasy feeling tugged at the corner of her mind.

"Why would you want to do that, Jess?" Ginny asked innocently, shrugging. Her other two friends, Mara and Bryana, both looked at her with surprise.

"Haven't you been listening to us at all, Ginny?" Mara said with a knowing wink. "Zoning off again? We've been talking about it for a few minutes now."

"Why the sudden interest?"

"Well, Seamus did mention that he and Dean were going to go explore for a bit later, and…"

Ginny rolled her eyes. She should have known.

"Fine fine," she said, laughing at the blushes on both Jessa and Mara's faces. The other girls headed out of The Three Broomsticks, walking cheerfully towards the looming shadow of the Shrieking Shack. Ginny did not know why, but she shivered as she followed the other girls, the unease still lodged deep into her mind even as she hurried to catch up to them.

She had a bad feeling about this.

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Well, what do you think? Read and Review please! This will be a loooong fic, so feedback is welcome-)


	2. The Shrieking Shack

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**Chapter Two:  
****The Shrieking Shack**

Draco Malfoy sighed, leaning against the rickety wall of the Shrieking Shack. The effects of _Illio Euphorium _still lingered on him, the faint smoke that always accompanied the illegal spell only just dissipating.

He took a deep breath, trying to hold onto the moment as the last, perfectly blissful feelings finally began to fade.

He had managed to ditch the other Slytherins back in The Three Broomsticks. They had been too busy blabbering on about the past summer, which Draco thought was just plain stupid to do in public. Not that they would really listen to him on this point anymore.

He sighed. His arm still hurt.

He growled and pointed his wand at himself. He was about to utter the Euphoria charm again when he heard footsteps approaching, the squeaking of the stairs making him stiffen in alarm. Hastily, he stood up, his wand at the ready. He could hear giggling, and high-pitched voices. _Probably some dumb first years_, he thought with annoyance. He had figured that the Shrieking Shack would have been the one place nosy people would stay away from, given the rumors of it being haunted. However, he had clearly underestimated the stupidity of most Hogwarts students, as he could hear their eager voices getting closer.

Draco stepped quickly over the aged floors, avoiding the parts he knew would squeak and give away his location, and then finally hid himself in one of the old, run down closets, far out of sight.

Through the cracks in the door, he caught a glimpse of red and gold, and with a scowl, he realized that he had been interrupted by not only dumb students, but dumb Gryffindors at that. They weren't first years though; he recognized the fiery red hair of the youngest of the Weasleys, and he scowled even more.

Weasley was sniffing the air, looking puzzled. Draco mentally swore; he hoped she did not know enough about illegal spells to realize the residual left by the Euphoria charm. Her friends, three jabbering girls who were giggling as they walked around the room, seemed to be quite oblivious to the light smoke in the room.

Draco held his breath. _Leave already, dammit_, he thought in annoyance. He did not particularly feel like waiting around all day for them to scatter, so he carefully pointed his wand through one of the cracks at the corner of the room, where a few broken trinkets were piled together.

"_Waddiwasi_," he whispered, and with a sudden crack, one of the objects shot upwards from the ground, bouncing back and forth between the walls.

One of the girls let out a scream, followed by another girl, and he heard the scurrying of light footsteps as they ran from the room and down the stairs. Draco snickered quietly. A smug grin on his face, he opened the door and stepped out of hiding.

He wasn't prepared for Ginny Weasley to hex him on the spot, and as such, the full body bind caught him by complete surprise. He could only stare out of shocked eyes as he dropped sideways to the floor, mentally cursing the entire lot of Weasleys as he fell.

* * *

Ginny was already antsy as she followed her friends up the stairs of The Shrieking Shack, the rickety building seeming to shake as much as her legs were with each step. That feeling of unease blew into full alarm when the objects in the room suddenly seemed to come alive and strike violently against the walls, and she had almost followed them out of the building when she heard something odd in the room. 

It had been brief, but she could have sworn it sounded like someone laughing. Her wand drawn, she turned around the room slowly. Just as she turned, she heard the creak of a door opening, and without thinking, she spun around and cried out, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Slowly, eyes wide in fascination, she watched as the frozen body of none other than Draco Malfoy fall to the ground. He landed with a loud crash, and she was almost nervous that the whole building was going to cave in under him. His eyes were also wide, but with obvious shock, and he seemed to be glaring at her, yelling at her silently to release him.

Ginny knew in her head that she should let him go and get the hell out of there. But she couldn't help herself; a slow grin crept onto her face, and she burst out into laughter. Her friends were probably already halfway back to Hogwarts by now, and they had no way of knowing that they had missed the perfect opportunity to see the notorious Draco Malfoy flat on his side, completely at her mercy.

His eyes seemed incredulous as she laughed at him, and Ginny couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor bastard. This was the second time she had gotten the best of him; she remembered quite well how surprised he had looked last year when she had cursed him in the face with her famous Bat Bogey hex. Poor bastard indeed. Not that he really deserved that pity, she amended quickly, remembering how much hurt he and his family had caused her and her friends. Her expression quickly became somber at that thought. It was because of the Malfoys that Ginny had lost her innocence so early in life, because of the Malfoys that Hagrid had almost gotten sacked, and because of the Malfoys that Harry had been tricked into going to the Ministry of Magic that fateful night and lost his godfather to the darkness behind the veil.

"Not so smug anymore now, are you Malfoy?" Ginny said quietly, looking at his pathetic form on the ground. He was really rather skinny, she noted as her eyes flicked over his body. _The girls would never talk about _his_ body,_ she thought with a slight grin. However, the fact that _she_ was even looking brought her to her senses, and a faint shade of rose tinted her cheeks immediately.

"What were you doing here anyway?" she asked quickly, hoping her voice sounded steady. "And where are your little bodyguards? Off somewhere stuffing their faces?"

She couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn Malfoy looked like he quite agreed with her for a moment. However, that feeling disappeared in a second as she saw his eyes harden again, and it was almost as though he were threatening her to release him or else.

Ginny swallowed. She suddenly had the sense that she was in over her head right now. She was all alone in the creepiest building in Britain with Draco Malfoy, who looked like he might kill her if she let him go.

But she _had_ to, didn't she? He was a prefect, and she had a feeling she'd be losing a hell of a lot of points for this, and probably more every second she left him bound like that. There was also the possibility of his cronies coming here for him, and she did not want to be here when they did.

Besides, she couldn't find it in herself to be just plain _cruel_ to him, no matter what he or his family stood for. Sighing, her mind made up, Ginny pointed her wand at him.

"_Finite incantatum_," she muttered, and she could see the spell release him.

He began to move slowly, forcing himself upright. Ginny knew that the aftereffects of the body bind left the muscles still relatively weak; a good thing, she thought, as Malfoy would have otherwise probably attacked her right then and there. As it was, she backed away from him a bit, watching as he struggled to stand.

He was almost on his feet when his leg jerked to the side awkwardly, making him lose his balance. Without even realizing what she was doing, Ginny rushed forward, taking the brunt of his weight as he nearly fell.

"Get the hell off, Weasley," he spat out, but he was leaning heavily on her, his arm draped over her shoulders. His body was apparently not cooperating with his mind's orders. The look of disdain and outright anger on his face made Ginny's skin crawl, but she knew that if she let him go right now, they'd both end up falling.

"I said get off, brat," Malfoy muttered again, but Ginny didn't move away. Instead, she pushed him back towards the wall, practically having to drag him down into a sitting position. She leaned him against the dusty wall, and then moved away.

This was odd, she thought with a frown. Usually, the muscles weren't _this_ weak after the body bind, but Malfoy was practically an invalid at the moment. Ginny thought back to her DADA classes; the only reason the victim of a body bind curse would be this lethargic would be because they had already been hit by some other, powerful spell before.

"What _were_ you doing, Malfoy?" Ginny said with genuine curiosity.

"Sod off, Weasel," he retorted weakly, his head drooping. He raised one arm slowly, very slowly, to his forehead, as though trying to force away some kind of headache. Ginny suddenly remembered the strange smoke and smell she had noticed earlier, before all of this had happened. Her eyes widened in understanding.

"Illegal _drug spells_, Malfoy?" she said incredulously. She could not believe that he would be that plain stupid. "Do you realize what you could have done? What was it? Delirium? Euphoria?"

"None of your damn business," Malfoy snapped, but she saw him wince as she said the last word. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy, you're lucky you're not dead."

"And you're lucky I'm on the ground right now, Weasley."

Ginny rolled her eyes and moved towards the door.

"Gonna go run to Potty, Weasley?" His voice was tired, but there was still that same hard, jeering edge to it. "Going to go tell on me now?"

Ginny clenched her fists. She spun around, taking a few quick steps back to him. She knelt down by his side, knowing full well he couldn't do anything to hurt her even if he wanted, and glared at him.

"My eyes are hurting, Weasley," he said with a sneer. "Get your face out of my sight and maybe I'll feel better."

"Why do you say all those horrible things to people?" Ginny asked. "What did I ever do to you, Malfoy?"

"Bat Bogey Hex much, Weasley? My muscles are weak right now, not my memory."

He actually looked indignant about it. It made for a rather curiously amusing expression. Ginny almost laughed again. He glared at her for a moment, and then began to try to stand, slowly and wincing for most of the time. Ginny watched him, eyebrows raised, as he fell two more times before collapsing again, wincing.

"Malfoy, do you want help?" she said slowly.

His expression felt like daggers. He was obviously about to mouth off at her again for even daring to suggest such a thing.

Ginny sighed, standing up quickly. She really did not want to just sit there and listen to him insult her or her family again.

"Weasley," he said suddenly, just as she had almost reached the door.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked quietly, turning around to face him again. He had his eyes closed, his jaws clenched tightly.

"I…"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Spit it out, Malfoy. You haven't lost your voice or anything. Or maybe it's just too hard for you to properly _ask_ someone for help, because-"

"Sod it all, Weasley, just shut up and help me up!"

He looked really angry, but Ginny's own temper flared.

"Don't order me around, Malfoy," she barked at him, walking back over. "You're the one who was stupid enough to be fooling around with drug spells and then immature enough to try to scare us from here. I'm being nice here, Malfoy, so I'd suggest you change your bloody attitude."

His eyes reflected surprise at her sudden outburst. Ginny half expected him to retort with some sort of nasty curse, but he was actually quiet. He didn't say anything at all, just glared at her for a while with those strangely haunting grey eyes of his.

"Well?" he said after a few more moments. "Is the good little Gryffindor planning on helping me up in this lifetime?"

Ginny glared at him, but she moved over and let him lean against her, pulling him upwards. His arm draped over her shoulder, and she grabbed it tightly for a moment as she steadied both of them. However, as her fingers dug into his forearm, she felt a sudden burst of pain hit her, hard. At the same time, Malfoy let out a hiss and promptly crashed into her, his weight knocking her off balance. Ginny had a moment to realize that this was going to hurt before both of them tumbled to the ground, Malfoy landing ungracefully on top of her, his face inches from her own.

"Get. Off. Malfoy."

"I. Can't. Move. Weasley."

"GINNY? What the bloody hell are you doing?"

_Oh no_, Ginny thought with a grimace, as she angled her head slightly to see her brother standing in the doorway, livid and shouting at the top of his lungs, with a pale Harry and a startled Hermione right behind him. _This is not good…_

* * *

Harry felt sick. 

The three of them had been walking through Hogsmeade when they had run into Jessa, Mara, and Bryana, who were all extraordinarily pale. They had ranted about ghosts and The Shrieking Shack, and Ginny being still stuck there. He, Ron, and Hermione had taken off at a dead run towards the old abandoned building.

They had had no idea of what was going on, but something about the situation had apparently struck all three of them as being dangerous. They had entered the building, hearing nothing, but then had been startled by a loud, resounding crash from upstairs. Ron had ran up first, and after hearing his roar of shock and anger, Harry had raced up the stairs after him with Hermione, heart racing. He'd heard Ginny's name being shouted, and he had feared the worst.

Well, now that he could see what was going on, it wasn't the _worst_ exactly, but it was pretty damn close. Harry couldn't help the shock on his face.

Ginny? With _Malfoy_!

Ron looked like he was about to tear Malfoy to bits, and before Harry or Hermione had a chance to act, the tall redhead had already lunged at Malfoy. In one quick movement, he hauled Malfoy up and tossed him unceremoniously away from Ginny, who was quickly getting up and brushing the dust from her robes. Her face was flushed, and she looked on guiltily at the three of them. Ron was eyeing Malfoy with death in his eyes, but he was talking to Ginny.

"What the hell is going on, Ginny?" he shouted, and all of them winced. Harry looked at Ginny, hoping her answer would be sensible enough to explain all of this.

"Malfoy erm, fell," Ginny said lamely, and Harry felt his stomach give a nasty twist. She was still looking extremely guilty about something.

"Ron! How hard did you throw him?" Hermione was looking aghast as she peered over at Malfoy, who Harry realized had not moved since Ron had pulled him off Ginny.

"No harder than he deserved," Ron grumbled, but he was looking a bit nervous now as he also looked at Malfoy.

"Ginny? What happened here?" Hermione cast a suspicious look between Ginny and Malfoy, one that Harry noted Ginny was avoiding like mad.

"I erm, ran into Malfoy here," Ginny said slowly. "The girls and I were exploring for a bit, and he was trying to scare us with some sort of stupid spell, and when they ran away, he came out and accidentally fell…on me."

It was clearly not the whole truth, but Ginny did not seem to want to say anything else. Ron seemed to have calmed down a bit, but he was still glaring at Malfoy as though he wanted to throttle him. Harry felt some of that same anger, but mostly he still felt sick. For some reason, his memory was deciding to fixate on the image of Ginny lying under Malfoy, the two of them tangled in each other's arms.

He shut his eyes quickly, trying to shake the image out of his head.

"We should probably go," Hermione said then, much to Harry's relief. She had always seemed to sense his moods, and Harry was pretty sure that if he stayed any longer in the same room with Malfoy, there would be violence of some sort. Hastily, Hermione walked over to Ginny, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders and guiding her to the door. "Come _on_, Ron!" she called over her shoulder.

Ron glared at Malfoy for a moment longer before mumbling something under his breath and following the girls out the door. He seemed to realize that Harry wasn't moving, and he tossed a curious look at him.

"Harry? Let's go, mate."

Harry nodded and moved to the door. He saw Ron and the girls heading down the narrow stairs, but he did not move to join them just yet. He turned, fixing his gaze on Malfoy, who had still not moved.

"If you hurt her, Malfoy," he said slowly, not sure where he was going with all of this. "If you hurt her at all…"

To his surprise and great irritation, Malfoy was chuckling softly.

"What's so damn funny!" Harry spat out, clenching his fists. Malfoy was still laughing, albeit weakly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"WHAT IS IT, MALFOY!" Harry yelled this time, not caring that he sounded like he was having a fit. The sudden burst of sound made Malfoy stop, but he was still grinning.

"You're funny, Potter," he said slowly, shaking his head. "All this talk about me hurting little Ginny. I'm the least of your problems now, Potty. We all have bigger things to deal with. Remember that lesson I talked about before?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy," Harry said tiredly. All of his anger had somehow faded as he continued to stare at the other boy. He was sick of arguing and yelling and being angry.

To his annoyance, Malfoy only laughed again.

"I'm not the one you should be scared of, Potter," he said with a dry laugh. "I wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now. Your parents died to save you, didn't they? And then your crazy godfather. Who'll be next, Potter? Who'll be next?"

Harry felt his stomach give a nasty sharp turn as Malfoy's laughter sounded once more, and before he realized what he was doing, he fled the room at a full run, hoping against all hope that Malfoy didn't really know what the hell he had been talking about.

* * *

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	3. Beginnings of Trouble

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**Chapter Three:  
****Beginnings of Trouble**

Draco spent the next few days glaring at everyone who dared approach him. It wasn't exactly a new thing; he'd always been sneering or glaring at people around him, but this time there was a certain sense of disgust behind the glare that kept people away.

He felt disgusted with himself.

The incident at The Shrieking Shack had definitely not been something he wanted the mighty trio to see; Ginny Weasley had been bad enough, but then he had been basically tossed to the side by one lunatic Ron Weasley and had only been able to trade a few insults with the Boy Wonder before his head had started hurting like mad.

_Not one of my finer moments, _he thought with a grim look on his face as he looked out the window of the library. He was sitting in his favorite spot, a little corner window in the far back of the library, hidden behind dusty shelves and cabinets from all eyes and ears. It was the one place he could go to that no one, not even Crabbe and Goyle, could find him. Then again, Crabbe and Goyle probably didn't even know where the library itself was, let alone the location of this particular spot.

Draco sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers in little circular motions. He had not been sleeping well, and he knew that it showed quite clearly in his eyes. The Christmas holidays were coming up soon, which meant he'd have to go home.

_Home…_

It was a funny word, he thought. For many of the silly, naïve little students at Hogwarts, home was filled with all sorts of ridiculous notions of happy faces and cheery laughs and sweet honey and vanilla smelling rooms.

Draco laughed dryly, closing his Potions textbook. That wasn't home. Home was a barren mansion of the finest dark marble, stone, wood, with beautiful screaming portraits, and decapitated heads floating about, and of course, the loving and painful attention of his mother.

He winced, rubbing his arm. It still hurt, but not nearly as badly as it had a few days ago when that little Weasley girl had dug her fingers into it.

Come to think of it, why _had_ it hurt so much then?

Draco frowned, still gently rubbing the skin. Granted, she had grabbed onto him pretty hard, but it shouldn't have hurt _that_ bad. Just a few weeks ago, he'd had a bludger slam right into that arm and damn near break it and it still hadn't been _that_ painful.

He sighed, grabbing his books and shoving them into his bag as he stood up. It was getting late, and his stomach gave a little growl just as he moved. His mind still filled with troubled thoughts, he walked through the stacks of books, heading for the door.

"BLOODY HELL!"

Draco winced as he collided with a blur of red and black, a blur that was swearing up a storm. _Oh no,_ he thought with annoyance, _lunatic Weasley. _He was not up for a verbal battle at this particular moment, and he half hoped Weasley would just get up and go away.

"Why don't you watch where you're bloody going, Malfoy?"

_No such luck, _Draco thought sadly to himself as he stood up, brushing off his robe. Weasley looked ready to kill, his fists tightly clenched. Draco rolled his eyes. He knew he probably shouldn't say anything, but he couldn't help but sneer wickedly at the tall redhead, who looked rather awkward despite the fury in his eyes. Ron Weasley had grown a few inches in the past year, and as such, his robes were a bit short on him. That, added with the fact that his hair was a red mess that flopped about when he moved, made Draco almost laugh.

"So sorry, Weasley," he drawled. "I didn't realize they let your sort into civilized places like this. Do try not to dumb up the place that much, will you?"

The remark hit home. Weasley's face darkened, and he rushed forward, grabbing Draco by the collar. He looked like he was about to tear him to bits. For a second, Draco felt a bit nervous. Weasley was already a lunatic by birth and family association; he hated to see him attack out of blind fury because of that one little comment.

"Ron, let him go!"

It was little Weasley, Draco thought with a scowl. Luckily for him, she seemed to be horrified at what her brother was doing, and she quickly walked over to them and hissed, "_Ron! _You _know_ what Hermione said."

"And what did the little Mudblood have to say?" Draco blurted out before he could think about it.

_Oops…_

Weasley looked positively livid now. Draco had a feeling this was going to hurt.

He was surprised when the resounding SLAP came not from the tall boy who was practically choking him, but from his little sister instead.

_Something about these redheads and their tempers,_ Draco thought bitterly, wincing at the sting from her palm. She had actually smacked him!

The elder Weasley seemed to be quite surprised by his sister's blatant violence, and he loosened his hold on Draco.

"Ron," little Weasley said sternly, "Get out of here and go find Hermione. She's waiting for you still about your Charms project."

"But-"

"You need to cool down."

"But Gin-"

"RON."

Despite himself, Draco felt the corner of his mouth twitch. This girl was vicious; she could hex people, slap people, and now she was ordering her big brother around with the kind of superior and annoyed air that would have made a Malfoy proud. Not that a Malfoy would _ever _even consider paying any sort of attention like that to a Weasley, he added as an afterthought.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't realize he had been standing there for a few moments now, with elder Weasley long gone and this little red haired witch staring coolly at him, her mouth set into a thin line.

"What do you want, Weasley?" he said casually, relaxing against one of the large shelves of books. She seemed to be studying him, her gaze flickering over him. She did not reply, and Draco felt a little uneasy as she continued to stare at him. It was almost as if she were sizing him up somehow.

"What _is_ it Weasley?" he finally spat out, his annoyance clearly showing in his tone.

The girl shrugged, looking at him with those large, pretty brown eyes. Well, pretty for a Weasley, Draco amended, wondering momentarily why he had to keep amending his own thoughts about this girl.

Finally, she spoke, and her voice sounded strangely devoid of emotion to him.

"Why'd you do it, Malfoy?" she said quietly.

_What the blazes was she on about?_

"Do what, Weasley?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Malfoy."

"Your brother ran into me, Weasley."

"No he didn't," she said quietly. "And that's not what I mean."

"Well then bloody explain yourself, because I have things to do, Weasley."

He did not expect her to take two quick steps right up to him, and then, without warning, grasp his left arm firmly with her slim fingers.

Draco wasn't prepared for the sudden surge of white-hot fire that seemed to burst from his arm, traveling up towards his chest. He let out a low, guttural cry and wrenched his arm from her grasp, backing away quickly.

He was breathing hard, and when he finally managed to get himself under control again, he saw that Weasley was lying on the floor, ghastly pale and breathing just as hard. Her dark eyes were brilliant, a few tears spilling over onto her freckled cheeks.

"That," she whispered, before fainting dead away.

* * *

Hermione knew instantly that something was wrong as she watched Ron approach her table, slamming his bag down with considerable force. He then proceeded to take out each textbook, slamming them down one at a time as well onto the table with just as much vehemence. Hermione raised her eyebrows. 

"Are you all right?" she asked cautiously.

A low mumble was the only response she received.

"Ron…what's going on?"

Another mumble, but this one was a bit more coherent. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Malfoy?" she said, and at the sound of the name, Ron slammed another book down. Hermione jumped a little, but she now understood why Ron was acting so crazy. Well, crazier that normal, she added mentally with a small smile. Not one of his finest traits, but definitely one of the more endearing ones.

"What happened?"

He sighed, resting his chin in his arms as he glared up at her.

"Ran into him in the library," he muttered. Hermione strained to hear him. "…stupid git…called you names…Ginny smacked him…git…lousy ferret…"

"So you had a fight with him, Ginny saw you two, and then she hit him?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, opening his Charms book. "And then she bloody orders me to come find you so I could 'cool down'. Girl gets more like Mum every day…"

"Wait, so you just left her and Malfoy together?"

"Well what the bloody hell was I supposed to do, Hermione?"

"All right, all right!" Hermione said soothingly, reaching across the table and taking his hand. She didn't even notice his ears turning a bright shade of red as she stroked his hand, trying to calm him down. "Ron, it's okay. I'm sure Ginny's fine; she sounds like she can definitely handle herself. But how about, just to check, let's go see if we can find her, okay?"

"Well what about this Charms project?" Ron looked a bit confused as Hermione stood and began to put her books and quills away.

"We'll do it later," Hermione said firmly. "Let's find Ginny first, okay?"

Nodding, Ron quickly shoved his things back into his bag, his motions less violent than they had been before. They were just about to walk off together when a blur of green and red ran past them, making them both stop and gape for a moment before collecting their senses.

"Was that-?" Ron asked slowly.

"I think so," Hermione said, her voice worried. "Come on, let's go."

"Go where?"

"After them, of course. They've got to be heading for the Infirmary."

With that, she grabbed his hand and ran out of the library.

It took them only a few moments to rush through the dimly lit hallways to the Infirmary. As they reached the doors, Ron broke into a dead run and practically burst through, his face wild with concern.

Hermione cringed. The sight in front of them wasn't going to make Ron feel any better. She instinctively grabbed his hand again, partially to make sure he didn't leap across the room, and partially because she felt that he needed the support at the moment.

Madame Pomfrey was hovering over the bed, and to Hermione's dismay and Ron's outrage, Draco Malfoy was leaning against the window on the other side of the bed, his arms crossed firmly as he stared intensely away from them all.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER, MALFOY?"

Hermione winced. Really, the boy had no control at all. She had both hands firmly grasping his, practically pulling him backwards so that he could not attack Malfoy. Granted, Hermione half wanted to slap Malfoy herself for even being remotely related to Ginny being hurt, but the cool, collected side of her forced her to slow down and take things into perspective. If Ron attacked Malfoy here, he'd be the one in trouble, not Malfoy. She gritted her teeth.

"Mr. Weasley!" Madame Pomfrey admonished Ron, looking quite cross as she walked over to them. "Kindly lower your voice!"

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, still shooting a death glare at Malfoy. Hermione sighed, focusing on Madame Pomfrey.

"Will she be all right?" Hermione asked. The nurse seemed grateful to be talking to someone who didn't look like a madman at the moment, and she nodded, offering a little smile.

"She'll be fine, Miss Granger. She simply fainted, most likely from exhaustion. I'll need to keep her overnight just to make sure, but she appears to simply be resting right now."

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Ron asked then, but it was more of a shout towards Malfoy than to Madame Pomfrey. She glared at him, and to his credit, Ron had the sense to shut his mouth and blush.

"As I said, Mr. Weasley, your sister fainted in the library. Mr. Malfoy was kind enough to bring her here. Now," she continued, as though sensing that Ron was about to explode again, "I must ask all of you to leave immediately. My patient needs rest and quiet, which she'll not get if you all stay here."

With that, she moved away and back towards Ginny's bed.

Hermione shivered, pulling against Ron's arm with all her strength, but he was so tense that she could not move him at all. His jaw was clenched tightly, his eyes a darker blue than she had ever seen them.

"Ron," she said quietly, trying to tear his attention away from the fair-haired Slytherin boy who was still whole-heartedly returning his glare. "Ron, let's go. We're supposed to meet Harry for supper anyway, and we still have that Charms project to do."

"I'm not really caring about some bloody homework thing right now, Hermione," Ron replied with a grunt, his eyes still on Malfoy. Hermione sighed, moving to stand in front of him. Grabbing him squarely on the shoulders, she forced him to look at her.

"Ron," she said slowly, pleading with him. "Let's _go_. Ginny will be fine, and Malfoy has to leave too, so there's nothing to worry about. Now, please, can we go?"

"Ms. Granger! Mr. Weasley! Mr. Malfoy! _Out!_"

The healer's sharp voice seemed to cause Ron to snap out of his angry staring contest with Malfoy. He looked down at Hermione, and to her relief, she saw his eyes soften slightly.

"Come on then," she said softly, and took his hand again. He nodded finally and allowed himself to be dragged to the door.

"Hang on," Ron said, just as they reached the door. "Get that git out first."

"No need to rush, Weasley," Malfoy said quietly. Hermione was surprised to see no sign of that superior sneer on his face; in fact, he looked quite pale. Well, even more than usual, she noted wryly.

Malfoy pushed past the two of them quickly, as though he did not want to be in the room any longer, and disappeared down the hall.

Ron stared after him, and for once, Hermione had a hard time reading his expression. She let him have a moment before she called him back to reality once more. Then, still unconsciously holding his hand, she led the way to the Great Hall for supper.

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	4. Quidditch Rivals

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**Chapter Four:  
****Quidditch Rivals**

The last Quidditch match before the Christmas holidays was coming up fast, and Harry was anxiously preparing for it on top of all the homework he had been buried under for the past few weeks. After Angelina Johnson had graduated last year, Ron had been asked, much to his own surprise and everybody else's, to take over as Captain. It had been possibly the happiest day of Ron's life, or so Harry at least thought. Being a Quidditch fanatic from the time he was still sucking his thumb, as well as the best strategist in chess Harry had ever heard of, Ron had quickly proven himself worthy of leading the team.

_Worthy, and stark raving mad_, Harry thought in amusement. Ron was quickly developing a reputation of insanity that rivaled Oliver Wood's; he was running the Gryffindor Quidditch team to their limits with practices every night of the week, with only Sundays off, all in preparation for the last game before the holidays.

Harry grinned as he climbed out of bed and stretched. Today was the day of the big match: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. That was the reason Ron had been even more insane; after the incident with Ginny and Malfoy - two incidents, Harry added, scowling - Ron had been more aggressive against Slytherin than he had ever been before.

Harry frowned, pulling on his robes and giving his hair a little shove. He'd long given up on trying to make it lie flat, but he found that if he shoved it every now and then in the right direction, it looked decidedly more windswept than simply unkempt.

By the time he got to the Great Hall, it was already abuzz with activity. Ron was holding an informal pep talk of sorts with the team at the table, with Hermione by his side rolling her eyes with the rest of the Gryffindor table at his maniac-like antics. Harry hid the smile on his face, slipping in on the other side of Hermione.

"Morning, Harry!" Hermione said with great relief in her voice, turning to talk to him.

"Oi! Harry! What took you so long?"

Harry grimaced as he leaned over Hermione to glance at his other best friend. Ron was looking rather...well, crazy. There really was no other way to put it.

"I didn't know there was a meeting, Ron," Harry replied, grinning. Across from him, he saw Ginny shaking her head with amusement at Ron's expression.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron continued, completely unaware that the people around him were grinning. 'Where's your sense of dedication?"

"So sorry, Ron," Harry said, his face now completely somber. "I was actually meaning to tell you...well, maybe I should wait until we're in private."

"What's that?"

"No, we should talk about it later."

"We don't have later, Harry. Just spit it out!"

"Well...don't go mental on me now, Ron, but I...I've decided to quit the team."

Silence suddenly grasped the entire table. Ron's eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open.

"W-what?" he stuttered.

"That's right," Harry said coolly, avoiding Hermione's eyes. She looked like she was about to burst. Hastily, he continued, "I just don't feel like I can focus on Quiddtich right now. It's _just_ a sport anyway, and really, with You-Know-Who back, it's not that important anymore. But don't worry though. I've already found you a replacement."

"Wh-who?" Ron looked almost green.

"Well, actually, Neville's been practicing with me for a bit, and I reckon he'll be a fair replacement."

"Wait til you see me, Ron," Neville piped up next to Harry, a sincere look on his face. Harry had to say he was impressed by how nonplussed he appeared.

Ron choked, nearly falling out of his chair.

"Harry...mate..." he whimpered. "_You can't do this to me..._"

Harry couldn't keep it up any more. His face broke out into a grin. The entire Gryffindor table suddenly roared with laughter. Ginny was giggling so hard she had to wipe tears out of her eyes, and Hermione was holding her stomach with both arms as her shoulders shook. Neville was laughing as hard as the rest of them, and Harry clapped him on the back approvingly for catching on so quickly.

Ron stared dumbfounded at his team and the rest of his house.

"Ron?" Hermione's voice managed to squeak as she tried to hold in her laughter. "Oh stop staring, you great idiot! It was a _joke_."

Harry watched as a slow grin crept its way onto his friends face. Ron quite suddenly punched Harry playfully in the ribs, his eyes dancing.

"Oi, that's twenty extra laps for you, Potter," he growled good-naturedly. Then, looking sheepish, he added quietly, "Don't do that ever again, Harry. You bloody near frightened me to death!"

"Wicked," Ginny commented, laughing. Her laughter silenced quickly however, when her brother shot her one of his glares, and Harry sensed some unresolved tension between those two. He frowned.

He remembered feeling quite out of the loop last week. From what Hermione had told him, Ginny had apparently fainted in the library, and Malfoy was somehow involved. That alone had driven Ron mad with anger. Ginny had been released from the Infirmary the next day, but she and Ron had apparently gotten into a huge row about it, mainly because Ginny wouldn't tell him what had happened with Malfoy.

Harry scowled at the thought of Malfoy having anything at all to do with Ginny. He felt an aching throb in his chest whenever he thought of that day in The Shrieking Shack, and now whenever he thought of what might have happened in the library. He tried to shrug it off, focusing on Ron and Hermione as they bickered about their Charms homework.

By the time the team was ready and assembled in the locker rooms, Harry had pushed most of the thoughts about Malfoy and Ginny to the back of his mind. He didn't want to speculate anymore; it had driven him insane for the past few hours already. He needed a clear head for the match, and he was determined not to let any thoughts of Malfoy ruin his chances in the game.

"Good luck out there," a voice said behind him.

Harry looked up from putting on his boots to see Ginny standing there, fully dressed already in the deep red and gold uniform. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and her skin seemed so fair compared to the other colors.

"Thanks," he replied, offering a small smile.

She turned to leave, but Harry found himself speaking up before he could stop himself.

"Hey Ginny," he said slowly. "Are you all right?"

"Fine."

"It's just...what with that whole row with Ron..."

"Sibling squabbles, Harry. Nothing to worry about."

"You're not doing anything with Malfoy, are you?"

Ginny looked almost amused. "With Malfoy, Harry?" she repeated, smirking. "Define 'with'."

Harry felt warmth spreading through his face.

"Er...you know."

Ginny let out a laugh, giving Harry a playful shove. "Not in a million years, Harry," she said, making a face. "Honestly, you of all people should know I have better taste than that."

"Well, um..." Harry was trying furiously not to blush any more. Ginny seemed to have realized what she had just said, and she suddenly looked a bit flushed as well.

"Anyway," she said quickly, backing away.

"Yeah...good luck out there."

"Thanks," she replied, and ran off.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Why was he breathing so hard? He sighed, shutting his eyes firmly for a moment so that he could calm down.

"HARRY! Let's go!"

Ron's barking voice snapped him out of his dazed thoughts, and deciding firmly that he'd get to the bottom of this later, Harry quickly grabbed his broom and raced out of the locker room.

* * *

Harry ducked as another bludger came whizzing by his ear, his eyes concentrating hard on finding the Snitch.

The game was getting intense. The Slytherin chasers had put in 80 points worth of goals, while Ginny and the Gryffindor team seemed to be faltering at only 40 points. The Snitch had appeared twice already, but both times the seekers had missed their chances due to some heavy work by the beaters on both sides.

Harry moved his broom so that he was hovering over the center of the pitch, high above the game. The sky was a light gray, the sunlight hidden by ominous looking clouds. Nearby, he could see Draco Malfoy close at watch as well, his own eyes searching for the Snitch.

Harry cast his glance below to the stands where the cheering students were all seated. From high up, he could only just make out Hermione, mostly because she was sitting next to Hagrid, who was far more visible.

"Harry, watch yourself!"

Harry had a split second to duck again when another bludger flew by, followed by beater Jack Sloper, who was red in the face as he raced after it. Harry turned to the person who had yelled out the warning, feeling a bit sheepish.

Ginny flew by, shaking her head. "Don't get distracted, Harry," she called out before racing off towards the goalposts on the other end of the field.

"Yes, don't get distracted now, Potter," a sneering voice said after Ginny flew away.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth, keeping his eyes averted from the Slytherin seeker.

"Be nice, Potter," Malfoy said with a grin, flying directly into Harry's line of sight. "I wouldn't want to have to take any points off Gryffindor now."

Harry rolled his eyes. He had long gotten over his mild jealousy towards Ron for not being chosen as prefect. It seemed so childish to fight over something so little now, he thought to himself, but then again, childish was what Malfoy was best at. _That, and being an arrogant git_, he added with a small ounce of satisfaction.

Whatever reply he had been planning to spit back at Malfoy was lost as his keen eyes caught a dart of gold at the Slytherin end of the pitch. Without wasting any more time on Malfoy, Harry pushed forward on his broom, the trusty Firebolt whizzing past Malfoy and speeding towards the snitch.

To his annoyance, Harry saw Malfoy out of the corner of his eye in hot pursuit. The two seekers wove in and out of the game, the chorus of cheers and boos from the stands thundering in their ears.

Harry ducked suddenly, barely avoiding another bludger aimed straight at him. The Slytherin beaters were apparently very anxious for their seeker to get to the snitch first. He swerved past them, still heading for the snitch. He was close...thirty feet...twenty...ten...

As his fingers closed around the small golden ball, he turned in time to see Malfoy, who had been right behind him, hit full on in the stomach by a well-aimed bludger as he tried to cut in front of Harry from the side. Harry managed to pull out of the way fast enough, the snitch caught tightly in his fist, but he watched in horror as Malfoy's broom collided with a blur of red and gold. There was a shriek, a loud clap in the air like thunder, and suddenly, his scar burned with an intensity he had not felt in some time. He let out a cry of pain despite himself, one hand clutching at his forehead.

In slow motion, Harry watched the Slytherin seeker fall from his broom, followed by another limp figure in dressed in Gryffindor scarlet. It only took him a second to realize what was happening, and he swore, wrenching his Firebolt downwards in a steep dive, the snitch forgotten. He did not think he had ever flown faster.

He caught her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he fought to hold his broom steady. It didn't work, and with a sick feeling in his stomach, he felt both of them slide off the broom, still a dangerous distance from the ground.

"_MOBILIARBUS!_"

The voice echoed through the pitch. Harry felt himself stop falling, and instead, hover in midair. He was then guided gently to the ground, and with a soft thump, he landed on his back, a heavy weight on his right arm.

He rolled over, sheer shock chasing away all other emotions. He did not trust himself to look at her, but concern overrode his hesitation.

"Ginny? Ginny, are you all right? _Ginny!_"

"Harry!" It was Hermione's voice that shrieked out. Harry looked up to see her and Hagrid running over from the stands, accompanied by many other of the onlookers. Ron landed about ten feet away from them, and he was paler than Harry had ever seen him before. He ran towards them, pushing roughly past some curious third years and kneeling next to Hermione, who had already made it over by Harry's side.

"G-Ginny?" Ron breathed, his eyes large with shock. Harry saw Hermione gently patting him on the shoulder, though she too looked in shock.

Ginny was not moving. She lay where she had been gently placed on the ground by Harry's side, the brilliant crimson of her Gryffindor robes battling with the red hues of her hair. She looked...broken.

Harry reached out a tentative hand to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek.

A sudden burst of shear heat hit him hard as his skin grazed hers, and he yelped, snatching his hand back quickly.

"Harry," Ron whispered, looking dumbfounded. "Your scar..."

They were all looking at him now, all of the students and teachers alike, a myriad of expressions on their faces ranging from curiosity to fear to horror. Tentatively, Harry reached a hand upwards, reaching for his forehead.

He felt something sticky. Grimacing in anticipation, he lowered his fingers, and to his own horror, he saw a streak of bright crimson against the pale of his skin.

"Everyne will please return to their dormitories," a quiet but firm voice suddenly spoke. "Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Please take Ms. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Potter to the Hospital wing. I will join you shortly. Everyone else will return to their dormitories."

"But sir! My sister - I can't leave - and _Harry_ -"

"You may see them once they have received medical attention, Mr. Weasley. As prefect for Gryffindor House, I should expect you to set a good example for the rest of the students. Ms. Granger? If you would be so kind?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied dutifully, though Harry noted that there was considerable reluctance in her voice. However, she pulled Ron away (quite forcefully), and the two of them joined the other prefects in guiding the students back to the castle.

"Can you walk, Potter?" McGonagall asked gently. Harry nodded, but then stopped because the motion made his head hurt even more. Professor McGonagall gazed at him dubiously through her spectacles, but she let him be, turning around and levitating the others and floating them towards the castle.

Harry glanced back at Professor Dumbledore, who was eyeing him closely. He winced, trying to block out the pain in his head, but he could not hold it back for long. The headmaster looked deep in thought, but he did not say anything. Instead, he turned around and walked away, towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry thought he saw him wave his wand, but he could not be sure, and then Dumbledore vanished into darkness of the trees.

Still clutching his scar, and wondering what on Earth was going on, Harry followed Professor McGonagall into the castle, his heart beating faster with each step.

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	5. The Dream

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**Chapter Five:  
****The Dream**

Ginny woke up to the sound of a chocolate frog, which leaped over her nose as she opened her eyes. Groaning, she swatted around her head, and the small chocolate creature disappeared from her view.

"She's awake!" someone said, far too loudly for Ginny's liking. She winced.

"Quiet down, Ron!" immediately scolded Hermione, and Ginny had to smile a bit at that. She slowly pushed herself up onto her elbows, and in a flash, she felt her brother's strong arms helping her sit up.

"Sorry about that," Ron said sheepishly, as he ruffled her hair. Ginny grinned up at him.

"It's all right," she replied. "I'm used to it. Fifteen years of hearing you snore has to come in handy sometime."

Hermione laughed as Ron's ear's turned pink. Ginny winced again, causing Hermione to become rather sheepish as well.

"I'm all right," Ginny reassured her. "How long have I-?"

"A day and a half," Hermione replied instantly. "You should be fine, though Madame Pomfrey did say that once you woke up, you should stay another day, just to be sure."

"Damn," Ginny muttered under her breath. Hermione looked startled at the vehemence of her expression, but she said nothing. Rather un-like Hermione, Ginny thought, and she wondered what would have made the older girl so reserved. Another thought entered her mind though, before she could ask.

"Did we win?" she said, looking between Ron and Hermione. Ron's face darkened considerably. Hermione patted his arm sympathetically. "Well?" Ginny said again, waiting for someone to answer her.

"Snape called for a rematch, and Dumbledore agreed," someone said from the corner. Ginny had to look past Hermoine's bushy hair to see Harry, who was sitting in a chair nearby. He had a grave expression on his face, but Ginny had gotten somewhat used to that as of late.

"Ruddy Snape," Ron snarled angrily. "It was ours! Just because Harry dropped the damn thing when you got injured doesn't mean we didn't win it."

"Calm down, Ron," Hermione soothed. "I think we have bigger problems than just Quidditch right now." She was still patting his arm. Ginny raised an eyebrow at that, but she kept her face neutral. Ron, however, did not seem to notice; he was getting rather cross.

"It's not _just_ Quidditch, Hermione!"

"Of course." Hermione sounded rather like Mrs. Weasley at the moment, trying to patiently deal with an unruly child. Ginny almost laughed, but then she caught sight of Harry's expression.

He was staring right at her, his emerald gaze so intense that it made her quite unsettled. A moment passed between them, his eyes reflecting concern and fear and all sorts of things, and then it was gone. Abruptly, he seemed to realize he had been staring, and he quickly looked down, the back of his neck rather red.

Madame Pomfrey entered at that moment, apparently drawn in by Ron's outburst. She shooed the two of them away from Ginny's bed, handing a small vial to Ginny as she eyed Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ginny gulped down the potion in one swallow, a dry feeling on her tongue.

"Shouldn't you three be at class?" Madame Pomfrey scolded.

"Not for another half hour," Ron objected, but at the sharp look from the healer, and Hermione's insistent tug on his sleeve, he hastily amended, "but we'll be right off, Ma'am."

He turned to Ginny, and in a very brotherly gesture, mussed up her hair again, saying, "We'll be back before dinner, Gin."

"Get some rest, Ginny," Hermione added.

"See you," Ginny replied, watching them leave.

Harry had said nothing, but he stood rather slowly from his chair, his eyes avoiding hers. Ginny frowned as he walked after Hermione and Ron, who were now arguing over homework – of all things, thought Ginny – and quite oblivious to Harry's presence.

Madame Pomfrey also left, taking the empty vial with her and pulling Ginny's curtains around her bed. The lights in the Infirmary dimmed, and all was quiet.

Sighing, Ginny settled down into her bed, letting Madame Pomfrey's potion calm her body as she snuggled into her sheets. She stretched out her arms high over her head for a moment, and then, feeling quite comfortable, she closed her eyes.

A sudden cough from the bed next to hers caught her attention just as she was about to drift sleep. Curious, she pushed herself upright again, pulling the curtains back.

The occupant of the bed was also hidden from view, but Ginny heard the cough again.

"Hello?" she called out hesitantly, wondering who it was. Silence greeted her words.

"Hello?" she tried again. "Is someone there?"

This time, she did get a response.

"You mind shutting up, Weasley? You're giving me a headache."

Ginny's countenance darkened instantly as she recognized that familiar drawl. The annoyance deepened as she remembered that he was the reason for her being stuck in the Infirmary in the first place. Glaring silently at his bed, she settled back into her sheets, feeling quite sorry that she had been so curious about her neighbor.

"What, Weasley? No witty comeback? Not up to your usual standard, eh?"

"Shut it," Ginny barked back.

"Not very creative, Weasley."

"I do have a _first _name, you prat," Ginny growled.

"As do I, Weasley, and I'm sure as do most people. Tell me, were you always this slow, or did that little fall knock your brains loose?"

"It was your fault in the first place, you horrible git," Ginny spat back. "And if you're going to continue to insult me, you could at least do it to my face instead of hiding behind that stupid curtain like a bloody coward."

That did the trick. The curtain was yanked back with a rather angry sounding jerk, and Ginny found herself staring at stormy gray eyes that looked quite menacing. She hid her inner shudder quite well, however, and stared defiantly back at him, as if daring him to say something. His eyes flicked over her for a moment, and then to her surprise, he grinned.

"You're really quite the little Gryffindor, aren't you," he stated. "Standing up to me? Bold, and quite stupid to boot."

"You don't frighten me," Ginny whispered, but her voice betrayed her. Malfoy sneered.

"Don't I?" he asked, and there was an edge in his voice that sent a shiver up her back. "Don't I, little Weasley? You seemed to think differently in the library when you fainted."

She swallowed hard. "That wasn't because of you, Malfoy," she replied evenly, and to her satisfaction, she saw his expression flicker uncertainly for a moment. "You know why I fainted," she added, wanting to gauge his reaction. To her disappointment, he merely shrugged.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Weasley," he muttered, and then turned away from her. But Ginny was not about to be so easily ignored.

"Why _did _you join them, Malfoy?" she asked. She thought she saw him flinch, but he still had his back to her. Ginny pressed on. "I mean, I know your father was one of them, but he's in Azkaban now. Surely you don't want to follow him there; that's just stupid."

There was a long silence, but still not answer. Sighing exasperatedly, Ginny lay back down as well, pulling her covers over her again and closing her eyes. She felt some time pass by, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere keeping her awake, and then –

"What makes you think I had a choice in the matter, Weasley?"

That surprised her. Ginny stared at his unmoving back, more questions pounding in her mind. She should have known; why anyone would give into such terrible darkness was beyond her, and she did not think Draco Malfoy was stupid or evil enough to want that. So he had been forced? How? What kind of power could have forced him to brand himself with that horrible mark?

"How did you know, Weasley?" He was still turned away from her. Ginny felt a twinge of annoyance.

"If you're going to ask me questions, at least talk to my face, Malfoy," she scolded him.

Again, to her surprise, he obeyed, turning around and fixing her with that unwavering glare of his. Ginny gulped.

"Well?" Malfoy said impatiently. "How did you figure it out? Not even the other Slytherins know."

How _had _she? Ginny closed her eyes, trying to remember.

"At the Shrieking Shack," she finally said, opening her eyes. "That's when I first thought – I mean, when I touched your arm – it _hurt_. That's when I thought maybe...and then I watched you for a bit, just to be sure, and you were always wincing whenever anything came near that arm – and then of course, there was the library."

"Yeah," Malfoy replied dryly. "That was fun."

Ginny snorted. "You have a twisted definition of fun, Malfoy."

"It's called sarcasm, Weasley."

"I _know_, you prat."

"Back to insults then?" He almost sounded hopeful. Ginny guessed he probably did not want to talk about his arm anymore, but she still had one more question for him.

"Malfoy, do _you _have any idea why it hurt so much when we touched?"

"We touched, Weasley? How quaint." His sardonic tone made Ginny's temper flare up a bit.

"You know what I mean!" she snapped. "When I first grabbed your arm, it just stung for a bit. The second time, in the library, it hurt even more, and I fainted."

"Not too strong, are you?" he observed.

"Shut it," Ginny snapped again. "I wasn't finished. Anyway, at the Quidditch match, what in the name of Merlin happened? All I remember is you flying right into me-"

"-you flew into _me_, Weasley," he interrupted her. "I got hit by a bludger, and then you flew into me when I was falling."

"Fine. Whatever. The point is that I remember grabbing something – probably your arm –"

"—let's hope."

"Oh shut up and let me finish! I grabbed your arm, and then bam! We both fall and nearly break our necks. And this time – I'm sure of it – you were also unconscious, weren't you? You had to have been."

"Probably because I was hit by a _bludger_. Honestly, Weasley."

"You were hit in the _stomach_, Malfoy, which – unless you're really as much of a wimp as everyone says – should not have knocked you out cold. But you were...and it's because of-"

"You know what, I think I'm too tired to listen to this anymore," he interrupted her rudely. And then without another word, he pulled the curtain back around his bed, shutting Ginny out instantly.

Annoyed, and feeling quite uneasy about the whole thing, Ginny slid back into her own bed, settling down into a restless sleep.

In her dreams, she was flying again, but this time over the Forbidden Forest, the dark treetops looking thick and velvety beneath her. She was not riding a broom, but simply flying on her own, weaving through the air as naturally as though she were a bird.

She did not know where she was going, but she saw the forest disappear into the horizon, and then she was flying over water, mountainsides, and other, unfamiliar looking trees.

In the far distance, she saw a great stone monument, rising from the ground as though to reach for the sky itself. Above it, the clouds were thick, thunderous, and black; they sank heavily upon the horizon, snuffing out what light had been in the sky before. As she stared at it, a chill ran up her back. She did not want to fly toward it anymore, but she could not stop. As she struggled against her own body, against the wind and the unseen force propelling her forward, she heard a voice speaking beside her, a deep, haunting sound:

_Ice and fire embrace  
__Earth and sky make one  
__Shadows of fear so fade  
__Darkness be undone_

_Blood of old be spilt  
__A union before time  
__Key to hope be made  
__Light, come forth to shine _

"The time has come, Ginevra," the voice then told her, and she found herself trusting it immediately, feeling as though it had reverberated from inside her own mind. It was strong, and proud, just like her, and it told her not to be afraid of what was to come. It calmed her, soothed her thoughts, and as she listened, she thought she saw a beam of light rise from the stone monument, flying above and shooting through the dark clouds. The beam widened, the light becoming blinding, and as it came towards her, Ginny heard the voice again, a mere whisper of what it had been before.

_Light, come forth to shine…_

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